Meeting Papa
by Tweeter
Summary: Tony doesn't show up for work on Monday. The Frog has a proposition for the Director. Tadpole goes all Fatal Attraction. Is this the end for our intrepid hero? Rated T for bad language later on. CHAPTER TWELVE IS UP. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: _I don't own these characters. I'm just having fun.

**A/N:** This story is in response to a challenge from the **ncisflashfic** community on Live Journal, but ended up being too long. The challenge was to try out bizarre scenarios, or write something melodramatic. Of course you know I couldn't resist the melodrama. This is **crackfic**, which means it can be wildly out of character, and totally unbelievable. Of course being me, I tried to keep things in character, but if something seems out of place, or you don't know how I came to a conclusion, keep in mind that it **is** crackfic.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

This story is complete. I usually like to keep my chapters at least 1,500 words long, but this story requires that I break from that, so the chapter lengths are all willy nilly, most are **short** - so I'll probably post more than one a day. Many thanks to thekatebeyond for her beta work.

Oh yeah, this story takes place immediately after Angel of Death.

**Meeting Papa**

It was a Monday morning, and the thunderstorm raging through the DC area matched the mood of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He was late getting to work, and he was _never_ late. His left rear tire blew as he drove over a sharp object hidden by a deep puddle in the road. Luckily, he had only been going ten miles over the speed limit, instead of his usual twenty, or he would have spun out and wrapped himself around a tree. It took him longer than usual to change the tire, the jack slipping out of his hands in the torrential downpour.

To make things worse, he didn't have time to stop for coffee before he stalked into the squad room, dripping wet and ready to shoot anyone that even looked at him funny. Wisely, Ziva David and Tim McGee said nothing as he slammed his gun and badge into his drawer. Even Tony DiNozzo was silent.

That's because he wasn't at his desk.

"Where the hell's DiNozzo?" he barked.

"Don't know, Boss," McGee replied nervously, "We haven't heard from him."

"Maybe he had car trouble," suggested Ziva, helpfully.

"Did you try his cell?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

McGee grabbed his phone hastily, "Doing that right now, Boss."

Gibbs gave the two agents one final glare before stalking off to the locker rooms to change into dry clothes.

oOoOoOo

Director Jenny Shepard was sipping her morning coffee and checking her e-mail when she noticed a message from an e-mail address she didn't recognize with the subject line "I believe this belongs to you." Despite constant warnings from the IT department not to open suspicious e-mail, Jenny clicked on the message.

"My dear Director," she read, "Recent events have brought something into my possession which I believe might interest you. Let's arrange a little tête-à-tête to discuss this intriguing development. I shall be in touch shortly. Best regards, Rene Benoit."

Jenny felt her face flush as she clicked on the attachment to the message, bringing up a photo of The Frog himself, sitting and chatting with Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, who was flanked by two very large, very dangerous looking men. She drew in a deep breath before pressing the intercom button.

"Cynthia, have Agent Gibbs report to my office immediately," she said curtly, disconnecting the communication before Cynthia had a chance to respond.


	2. Chapter 2

_Saturday_

Tony knew he was in trouble. To say he was surprised to see La Grenouille sitting in the limousine would be an understatement, but he kept his composure and greeted the father of his girlfriend politely and respectfully, as any well-bred suitor would. The conversation was light and pleasant, unlike the painfully awkward dinner he had with Jeanne's mother. It seemed that Monsieur Benoit adored his youngest child and if he had any doubts about the young man she was seeing, he hid them well.

The ride was longer than expected, and Tony's spidey senses started tingling. Warning bells began ringing loudly inside his head as the limo pulled through two very large gates and drove up a long driveway toward an imposing mansion. Through the rear window, he could see two armed guards close and lock the gates behind him.

"I hope you don't mind, Professor," Benoit said smoothly, "I've taken the liberty of bringing the two of you to my temporary residence. We can get to know each other, without any interruptions."

"Papa," Jeanne said sweetly, "there's no need for pretense now." She turned to Tony, "We have a lot to _discuss_, Agent DiNozzo," she said, her cold eyes reflecting the anger that boiled inside her.

This definitely was not good.

oOoOoOo

"Cynthia said you wanted to see me right away," Gibbs said, as he entered the Director's office without knocking.

"We have a problem," Jenny replied grimly. She pulled up the photo on the plasma screen.

"When was this taken?" Gibbs asked.

"I assume sometime this weekend." Jen walked to the cabinet and poured herself a glass of bourbon, arching an eyebrow in surprise when Gibbs refused her offer to pour him one.

"This explains why DiNozzo isn't in today," Gibbs said, staring intently at the screen. "The undercover op is still ongoing. His 'girlfriend' is part of it, isn't she?"

"What kind of backup does he have?" Gibbs continued without waiting for an answer.

"None," Jen replied shortly.

Gibbs' eyebrows shot up, "None?" he asked incredulously. "You sent him out there alone, with no backup? What's his girlfriend got to do with The Frog?"

"She's his daughter," Jen replied, taking a gulp of the bourbon. "Tony was supposed to get close to her and get a line on her father. He didn't say anything about meeting him, or I would have had someone backing him up."

"Maybe he didn't know he was going to meet her father," Gibbs retorted angrily. "If they sent you this picture, they must know who he really is."

Jenny nodded, "La Grenouille is going to contact me to discuss the situation."

"Has he made threats about Tony?"

"Not exactly," Jen said, not looking Gibbs in the eye. "But I wouldn't put it past him."

"Do you have any idea where they could be?" Gibbs asked, swearing when the Director shook her head. He stormed out of her office, leaving her to stare at the photo and sip her drink


	3. Chapter 3

_Still Saturday_

Tony was led through the large house and onto the rear patio. Rene sat down in one of the lavishly padded chairs and motioned the agent to another chair across the table from him.

"Adele," Benoit called to the housekeeper standing respectfully by the door, "would you bring us some refreshments, si vous plait?" The woman nodded and disappeared into the house.

"Now, Agent DiNozzo," Benoit said pleasantly, leaning back in his chair and smiling. "Tell me, what is your mission for the Director? To keep an eye on me? To seduce my daughter so you can infiltrate my family? Hmm?"

"Yes, Tony," Jeanne's voice dripped with venom. "Tell my father how far you were supposed to go with me, in order to keep your cover intact."

Tony laughed nervously and cleared his throat. "I think there's been a mistake," he said, "I don't know who you think I am but..." his voice trailed off as papers were tossed on a table in front of him. There were pictures of him with Jeanne, and him at a crime scene, NCIS emblazoned boldly on his jacket and hat.

"I have my own sources, Agent DiNozzo," Benoit said pleasantly. "There's no need keep up with your performance."

Jeanne snorted. "Performance," she spat. "You put on quite a performance, Tony." She walked up to the agent and slapped him. "You son-of-a-bitch," she hissed, "you'll be sorry you ever met me."

"Jeanne, darling," Benoit interrupted. "Perhaps you should go inside and change into something more comfortable. It's been a long night for you, I believe, no?" Jeanne cast one more glare at Tony before turning and going inside.

"So sorry... may I call you Tony? Yes? Thank you," La Grenouille said, "Jeanne is very hot tempered, much like her mother. The two of them are hellions if crossed; I don't envy you. I'm afraid I won't be able to stop her from exacting some sort of revenge upon you, but I will be able to keep you alive, for the moment. You will serve a better purpose for me if you are alive."

"And what would that purpose be?" Tony asked. Benoit said nothing as his housekeeper returned from the kitchen bearing cold drinks and small sandwiches. He smiled up at her and thanked her graciously, dismissing her for the rest of the day.

Pouring Tony a glass of iced tea, he urged the younger man to eat something. "I have some transactions that are going to take place within the next few weeks," Benoit said, "ones that I would appreciate your agency keeping away from. I'm sure your Director will understand if I ask her to do so, as long as you're my guest."

Tony laughed. "I think you underestimate my importance, Monsieur Benoit," he replied. "If your 'transactions' compromise the safety of this country in any way, having me here won't make a difference."

"You think not?" Benoit asked in surprise. "That would be a shame, you seem like a good person."

"One who slept with your daughter under false pretenses," Tony corrected.

Benoit threw his head back and laughed. "Indeed," he said, "and for that you will pay dearly, my boy."

"I thought you preferred to ruin people, not hurt them physically," Tony replied.

"That is true," Benoit nodded solemnly. "It's not me you need to worry about. Jeanne is very beautiful and caring, she'll make a good doctor, but she is not forgiving and her temper is most violent. Two of my bodyguards are quite smitten with her and would do anything for her, including making you regret your actions."

"_Your_ bodyguards," Tony said meaningfully.

"Yes, mine," Benoit concurred, "but I'm afraid I've spoiled her terribly and can refuse her nothing. I will make sure that you're not killed, though."

"Right," Tony replied, "you need me alive. Thank you for that."

Benoit raised his glass in acknowledgement, "It's the least I can do," he replied.


	4. Chapter 4

"McGee!" Gibbs voice rang through the squad room.

"Still no signal, Boss," McGee replied. "We've tried everything; we've put a BOLO out on Tony's car, but it was still at the hospital; we've checked his apartment and Dr. Benoit's – nothing, no sign of either of them."

"How did they leave the hospital?" Gibbs demanded.

"One of the nurses said she saw them get into a limo, but she didn't get a license plate," Tim continued hurriedly. "We're pulling video from the security cameras to see if we can get a glimpse of the car, but so far we haven't had any luck."

"Well, we know one thing," Gibbs said grimly, "the Frog has him."

"What?" Ziva rose from her seat. "How do you know that?"

"He sent a picture to the Director," Gibbs replied, "saying he'll contact her to discuss the situation."

"I knew something was wrong," Ziva muttered.

"You knew?" Gibbs turned to her angrily.

"I didn't actually _know,_" she explained, "I felt it. Something about his relationship with his new girlfriend felt wrong to me."

"You should have shared those feelings," Gibbs replied. "We might have been able to prevent this."

"I wasn't certain," she argued, "and I didn't want it to seem as if I was jealous."

"Are you?" McGee asked.

"What, jealous?" Ziva laughed. "No, of course not. Okay, I admit to feeling left out, maybe a little ignored, and I miss the way we would flirt..."

"Uh huh," McGee grinned at her. "Ow," he said, rubbing the back of his head, "sorry, Boss."

"At least we have another direction to search," Gibbs said. "Ziva, see if you can get any information on The Frog's movements. McGee, keep trying to track down that limo."

_An hour later_

"Ziva, anything from your sources?"

Ziva shook her head, "Nothing, Gibbs. No chatter, nothing about any big arms deals; it's almost too quiet."

"What about the CIA mole?" McGee asked. "Can the Director get another meeting with him?"

"She's trying," Gibbs replied, "but she's not having any luck. They hate her more than they hate me."

"What about Fornell?" Ziva asked. "Can he pull some strings for you?"

"I've already talked to him." Gibbs cracked his neck tiredly. "He's working on it for me, but nothing yet."

"Ducky said that La Grenouille isn't the type of man to just murder someone," McGee pointed out. "Maybe Tony's okay."

"Yes, and he's getting a stern talking to from Jeanne's father," Ziva replied sarcastically. "I doubt that he's treating Tony like a future son-in-law, McGee."

"McGee, check to see if you can get into The Frog's bank records," Gibbs ordered. "See if there's been any unusual activity lately. Find out where he has houses and whether or not any activity has been seen at any of them."

"You think he'd fly Tony out of the country?" McGee asked.

"I don't know what he'd do," Gibbs replied grimly, "I need to cover all the bases and find Tony before we're looking for a body."


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for all the great reviews, I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far. I guess even when writing crackfic I'm not as wacky as I can be... unless you count the story I wrote that's a crossover with How I Met Your Mother. That'll be posted here after the challenge is finished, in a little over a week. Thanks again, and here's some more of the current story.**

_Sunday morning_

The sun was shining through the window brightly. Too brightly. Tony moaned and tried to throw his arm over his eyes, only to find that he was handcuffed to the bedframe. He cracked an eye open and looked around.

He was in a large bedroom, furnished with what appeared to be antiques. Looking up, he found, to his horror, he was lying on a large canopy bed. Pushing down the tendrils of fear that grew from long suppressed memories, he tentatively tested the chains that tethered him in place. They were secured tightly, with no give for maneuvering.

He hadn't really believed that Jeanne would order the bodyguards to rough him up, but it seemed there was a lot to the woman that he hadn't seen. He had spent the relationship coddling her and giving in to her every whim, not wanting to risk her dumping him and blowing his operation, so he had never seen her truly angry. Petulant, pouty, demanding, yes, but never as furious as she was last night.

"Hell hath no fury," he muttered to himself, mentally cataloging all his aches and pains, trying to determine how much damage the two goons had inflicted upon him. They knew what they were doing, that was certain. He figured he had a few cracked, if not broken, ribs and some internal bruising. His face felt as if it was one huge, throbbing mess, but a quick check with his tongue showed he still had all his teeth. The fact that he was having difficulty breathing through his nose meant it was probably broken.

"Great," he said to himself. "Now what?"

As if in answer, the door opened and Jeanne breezed in, dressed in a yellow sundress and looking as fresh as a daisy.

"Good morning, Tony. How do you feel?" she asked, poking none-too-gently at his nose.

"Ow," he yelped. "Not too good. Thanks for asking."

"Well," Jeanne shrugged, "I am a doctor. Want me to take care of your injuries?"

"I don't know," Tony eyed her suspiciously. "You'll probably just make it worse."

"Probably," Jeanne agreed cheerfully. "I'm still very upset with you, _Professor_," she said with a small pout, "and since you'll be our guest for awhile, I'll be able to show you just how upset I am."

"This is a whole new side of you I'm seeing, Dr. Benoit," Tony said, shifting uncomfortably but working to keep his tone casual.

"You've always been so sweet and accommodating, Tony," Jeanne replied. "I thought you really loved me," she said accusingly, "and that you were telling the truth about your commitment issues."

"Well, I do have commitment issues," Tony replied, "and if it makes any difference, I did have some very strong feelings for you."

"Did," Jeanne repeated.

"Well, you have to admit," Tony said, "this kind of puts a damper on the whole 'attracted to you' scenario. I'm not really into domination and submission."

Jeanne laughed, "That's what I love about you, Tony. You're funny, handsome, charming; it's too bad you're a liar, too."

Tony winced slightly. "I hate to interrupt this touching conversation, but I really need to go to the bathroom. Do you think you can undo these things, or would you prefer I ruin this expensive-looking comforter?" Tony jiggled the cuffs pointedly.

Jeanne rose from the chair she had been perched on and smoothed her dress. "I'll send the boys in to help you," she said, walking over to the bed and kissing Tony. She patted him on the head and left the room.

"Gee, thanks," Tony said to the empty room.


	6. Chapter 6

"Do we know when La Grenouille is going to call the Director?" Ziva asked Gibbs. The three agents had been working hard to find Tony, with no luck, and were now waiting impatiently for word from the man holding their teammate. Abby Scuito had wandered up from the lab to join them, having nothing to do for the moment.

"No idea," Gibbs replied gruffly.

"I thought Tony's undercover op was finished when we got called off the case in Montreal," McGee said.

"Apparently the Director chose to keep the rest of the op a secret from us," Gibbs replied.

"Don't forget Tony," Ziva corrected. "He never said that his new girlfriend was a part of it."

"No," Gibbs agreed, "he didn't."

"I can't believe you didn't know, Boss," McGee said. "You usually know everything that's going on around here."

"Yeah," Abby added, "You're like the Great Oz, or something."

"Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain," Ziva said in a loud, deep voice.

"What?" she said in response to the looks she received from the others. "Someone had to make a movie reference, since Tony's not here to do it."

Cynthia appeared at the top of the stairs. "The Director's on the phone with La Grenouille," she called out urgently.

Gibbs sprang up from his seat. "McGee, trace the call," he yelled as he ran up the stairs.

"On it, Boss," McGee began typing furiously as Abby ran to Tony's computer to run a parallel trace.

Cynthia motioned that the Director had the caller on a speaker phone, stopping Gibbs from bursting into the room. He entered quietly, noting the tense set of the Director's jaw.

"... was really beneath you, my dear," Benoit's silky voice flowed from the speaker.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Monsieur Benoit," Jen replied sarcastically, motioning for Gibbs to take a seat. He glared at her and leaned against the conference table.

"Family is strictly off-limits, Director Shepard," Benoit said disapprovingly. "Any civilized person should know that. My daughter has nothing to do with my affairs."

"And my father?" Shepard shot back angrily.

"Your father chose to do business with me," Benoit replied smoothly. "He was not an innocent bystander."

"That's a lie," Jen said angrily, "he would never betray his country willingly. You must have had something on him."

"Your father wanted the good things in life that he couldn't get on a military salary," Benoit replied. "He saw an opportunity and he took it. I was only too happy to take the weapons off his hands."

Gibbs caught the Director's attention and mouthed Tony's name.

"I'd like to speak to my agent," Jen said, "to make sure he's still alive."

'You know I wouldn't just kill him," Benoit replied reprovingly. "I'm afraid I can't say the same for my daughter, however. She's quite upset with him."

"Let me speak to Agent DiNozzo," Jen repeated firmly.

"I'm afraid I can't do that at the moment," Benoit sounded regretful, "I must cut this call short. I know you're trying to trace it and I've probably been talking too long. I'll be in touch again and we'll discuss what you can do to guarantee the safe return of the delightful Agent DiNozzo." The line went dead.

"Damn," Jen slammed her chair back and stood up angrily.

"Did he give you an idea of what he wanted from you before I came in?" asked Gibbs.

Jen shook her head. "He was reprimanding me for having someone seduce his daughter."

"That's just one of the bad decisions you've made on this, Jen," Gibbs replied, moving to leave the office.

"That was out of line, Special Agent Gibbs," Jen said angrily.

"What?" Gibbs turned back. "Telling you that you screwed up this whole operation? That you let your personal feelings interfere with your professional responsibilities?"

"I did not..."

"Why is The Frog so important to you, Jen?" Gibbs interrupted. "Because he's an arms dealer or because he did something to your father?"

"That's none of your business..."

"It is my business, Jen," Gibbs yelled. "You put my senior field agent in a dangerous position, with no backup, for a personal vendetta."

"La Grenouille's business is a potential threat to the security of this country," Jen shot back heatedly. "It's our job to keep the weapons he deals out of the hands of those who would like to bring us to our knees."

"That's a great sound byte," Gibbs scoffed, "but that's not the reason why you're so obsessed with bringing him down, it's a convenient excuse. You'd go after him if he was pirating movies."

"Jethro," Jen began, tiredly.

"No, Jen," Gibbs interrupted. "There's nothing you can say right now that will make this whole situation right. Not until we get Tony back, alive."


	7. Chapter 7

**Once again, thank you for all the lovely reviews. I know my strong feelings about certain characters have come through in this story, hope no one is offended. **

_Still Sunday_

Tony spent most of the morning playing punching bag while Jeanne read a book and drank a fine chardonnay. After awhile, her father grew impatient with her and ordered the bodyguards to stop and clean the injured agent up.

"Jeanne," he said firmly, "that is quite enough. I'm sure that Monsieur DiNozzo has received your message and regrets his actions, is that not so, Tony?"

"Oh yeah," Tony mumbled, spitting out blood, "I regret everything."

Jeanne's eyes narrowed, "Everything, huh?"

"Now, now," Benoit moved between his daughter and Tony, "I said that is enough. Why don't you go and calm yourself down, that's a good girl." He kissed Jeanne on the temple and shooed her away gently.

Shaking his head, Benoit turned to Tony. "You really should not bait her like that, Tony," he said reproachfully, "you'll only make things worse for yourself."

Wincing as antiseptic was applied to his cuts, Tony shrugged. "I can never seem to take the easy road," he replied.

"I see," Benoit said thoughtfully, as he opened a bottle of fine brandy and poured two snifters, offering one to Tony.

"I thought you liked cognac," Tony said, accepting the snifter with a gracious nod.

"I like many things," Benoit replied. "Fine wine, fast cars, beautiful women. My people have done some research on you, Tony. I believe you and I share an enjoyment of life's little pleasures."

"If your people are good," Tony replied, "you'll know that I no longer have access to many of those 'little pleasures.'"

"Yes, I know," Benoit acknowledged. "Your father was disappointed in your choice of careers and cut you off." He shook his head in disapproval. "One should always support the younger generation in their pursuits in life. It is part of a parent's responsibility – to provide support and understanding, as well as guidance."

"You support your children unconditionally?" Tony asked, sipping the brandy appreciatively.

"In most ways, yes," Benoit replied. "My children and grandchildren are my legacy. All children are to be cherished and nurtured, they are the future."

Tony shook his head slightly and chuckled.

"Did I say something amusing?"

"I'm just surprised," Tony replied.

"Surprised?" Benoit responded. "In what way?"

"You're an arms dealer," Tony said. "You deal in death and destruction. You sell weapons to anyone who has the money. And yet, sitting here, sharing a drink, talking about children and the future, you seem almost," he paused, searching for a word that wouldn't insult his host.

"Normal?" Benoit supplied, helpfully.

"Like a loving father and grandfather, not a ruthless arms dealer," Tony corrected.

"The two are not mutually exclusive, Tony," Benoit said, chuckling. "And really, I think 'ruthless' is a rather harsh description. I am a businessman whose business happens to be weapons. Think of me as an independent dealer, a go-between, if you will, between the weapons manufacturers and their customers."

"Customers who are often terrorists and mercenaries," Tony added.

Benoit laughed. "Ah, to be young and idealistic again. The world is not so black and white, Tony," he said. "There are many shades of gray, many layers hidden beneath the surface you see."

"I know," Tony conceded. "There have been times when I felt that the bad guy we were after wasn't really all that bad. I guess I can't see the 'good' in dealing illegal weapons."

"Fair enough," Benoit replied. "I won't try to lure you to the dark side." He paused, "You're looking pale, have you had anything to eat today?"

"Pale?" laughed Tony. "I'm surprised you can see anything other than black and blue."

"True," Benoit stood. "Come, we'll sit by the pool and have brunch." He held his hand out to Tony, helping the younger man rise stiffly from his chair.

Benoit shook his head as Tony swayed slightly. "I must have a little talk with Jeanne," he said. "She has some tendencies that alarm me."

Tony looked at him in surprise. "That's a scary thought."

Benoit threw his head back and laughed. "I like you, Tony," he said, putting an arm around Tony's shoulder, leading him out to the patio. "Let us enjoy Adele's excellent cuisine."


	8. Chapter 8

"Did you trace the call?" Gibbs called as he strode down the stairs to the squad room.

McGee looked up from his computer. "They weren't on long enough for us to get a complete trace," he replied regretfully. "We only have a general location."

"And that location is...?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

"The Shenandoah Valley," Abby said.

"The _entire_ Shenandoah Valley?" Gibbs replied, "You couldn't narrow it down at all?"

"Sorry, Boss."

"Is Tony okay?" Abby asked anxiously.

"We don't know," Gibbs replied, "the Frog wouldn't let us talk to him."

"What did he want us to do?" Ziva asked.

"We don't know that either," Gibbs said, frustrated. "I'm going for coffee," he said, heading for the elevator. "McGee, check to see if there are any large compounds in that area. Something that a private citizen can rent."

"Right, Boss," McGee sat down to start the search.

"One with either a private air strip or a place to land a helicopter," Gibbs added as he entered the elevator.

"That should help narrow the search," Abby said. "Need any help, Timmy?"

McGee shook his head, "No thanks, Abs, I'm fine."

"I need to do something," Abby started pacing, "I feel helpless."

"I know how you feel, Abby," Ziva said sympathetically. "But there's nothing you can do right now. We don't have much to go on."

"Right now, our Tony is in the hands of a murderous gun runner," Abby fretted, "going through who knows what kind of torture, and we have to sit here and do nothing."

"The man I met with didn't seem like the sort to inflict torture," Ducky said, entering the squad room.

"How do you know, Ducky?" Abby turned to him anxiously. "You only met him for that short bit."

"True," Ducky acknowledged, "but in that time I think I was able to gain some measure of the man. I've also done some research on his dealings and he seems like a very civilized person."

"A civilized person who sells weapons to terrorists," corrected Ziva.

"We don't know that, exactly," Ducky replied. "There's more to the man, I'm certain of it. I just can't put my finger on what."

"Jenny thinks you have a man-crush on him," Ziva said, chuckling softly.

"The Director has her own strongly ingrained opinions," Ducky replied haughtily. "She hardly seems to be the right person to be throwing stones."

"True," Ziva nodded. "You seem more objective about this whole thing."

"Thank you," Ducky bowed slightly, "I do try. I don't think you have anything to worry about, Abby. Tony will be all right."

"I hope so, Ducky," Abby replied, doubtfully, "I really hope so."


	9. Chapter 9

**Just one chapter today, this scene worked out to be at least twice as long as the other ones.**

_Sunday Evening_

The long dining table was set lavishly, with place settings for four people. Rene Benoit sat at the head of the table, with Jeanne on his left and Tony on his right. Both Rene and Jeanne were dressed formally.

"I feel so underdressed," Tony remarked, looking down at the clean shirt he was given and his wrinkled slacks. His jacket had been damaged and was stained with blood, totally inappropriate attire for a meal of any sort, much less a fancy one.

Benoit waved his hand dismissively. "No need to worry," he said, kindly. "You weren't expecting to join us, I know. I insist that we dress up when we have dinner. It makes the meal feel elegant, don't you agree?"

"Yes," Tony replied. "It brings back memories."

"Good ones, yes?"

"Childhood, no."

Benoit nodded understandingly. "I see. Your parents were not very loving, were they? That is a shame. And yet you grew into a fine young man, from what I understand."

Jeanne snorted indelicately.

"My dear," Benoit admonished, "Tony was doing his job, and from what you told me before you knew who he really was, he treated you quite well. No?"

"It was all a lie, Papa," Jeanne replied petulantly. "How can you defend him?"

"I understand that sometimes a man must do things he does not like, for a greater good," her father replied. "You told me he was hesitant, that he waited a long time before he slept with you, and he wouldn't tell you he loved you. That seems to indicate conflict to me. Am I right, Tony?"

"I had some conflicting feelings, yes," acknowledged Tony.

Benoit nodded. "I thought so," he said, satisfied. "You are a man with a conscience, I can tell. Under other circumstances, we could have been friends. Perhaps we still can be."

"I gotta admit," Tony said, looking around, "I'm a little confused."

"Confused about what?" Benoit asked, pouring wine into Tony's glass.

"Thank you," Tony said. "Confused about the way you're treating me. Not the way Jeanne's treating me," he added, tipping his glass toward her slightly in salute. "But the way you are, like I'm a house guest."

"You are a guest," Benoit replied. "An unwilling one, yes, but a guest nevertheless. And as a guest in my house you will be treated with respect and civility. At least from now on," he added with a smile.

"Are you expecting company?" Tony asked, indicating the extra place setting.

"Yes," Benoit replied, "an associate will be joining us shortly." He looked up, "Ah, here he is now. Your timing is impeccable, we were just talking about you."

Tony turned to see Trent Kort enter the dining room.

"Good evening, Monsieur," he said politely, "Mademoiselle." Turning to Tony, he said, "What the hell happened to you?"

"Jeanne," Tony replied succinctly.

"Ahh," Trent nodded, "the scorned woman. Very dangerous creature."

"Indeed," murmured Benoit.

"Would you mind not talking about me as if I weren't in the room?" Jeanne frowned at the men.

"Sorry, my dear," Benoit said apologetically. "Adele, you may serve dinner now."

The conversation during the meal ranged from oblique comments exchanged between Benoit and Kort to discussions on fine wine and spirited arguments over who would advance to the World Cup. Throughout the meal, Tony noticed that Jeanne became more and more unhappy, glaring across the table at Tony and sending sad looks toward her father, who smiled at her indulgently.

"Shall we adjourn to the study for some cognac and cigars?" Benoit asked, pushing his chair back from the table. "Jeanne, would you mind excusing us?"

"Papa," Jeanne protested.

"My dear," Benoit replied, "this is business."

"Business," Jeanne spat. "You're treating Tony like he's a long-lost son. He used me, Papa, to get to you. You should be angry with him. _You_ should be the one punishing him."

"Now, Jeanne," Benoit replied soothingly, "you know I'm not a violent man. I think Tony has suffered enough for his transgressions. He probably should go to the hospital, but he'll have to settle for our clumsy first aid. Isn't that enough punishment for you?"

"I am in a lot of pain," Tony supplied helpfully.

"He looks like hell," Trent added.

Jeanne sputtered for a moment, then turned and stalked out of the room.

"Like her mother," Benoit said to the two men, smiling ruefully.

Once the three men were settled in the study, the conversation turned serious.

"Your boss is something else," Kort said, shaking his head.

"Yeah," Tony agreed, "Gibbs is old school, justice at any price."

"I mean the Director."

"Oh, _that_ boss," Tony shrugged. "Sorry."

"What will it take to get her off our backs?" Kort asked.

"I don't really know," Tony replied honestly. "I wasn't given a reason for my assignment. I was just told to get close to La Grenouille's daughter and see if I could find any information on his activities."

Benoit was watching the two men thoughtfully. "She never explained her reason for wanting to bring my operation down?" he asked.

Tony shook his head. "I didn't really ask. You're an arms dealer, I figured it had something to do with that."

"This isn't exactly her jurisdiction, though, is it?" Kort said.

"It is," Tony argued, "in a way. If the arms that Monsieur Benoit is dealing are used to attack a Navy or Marine target, it falls under our jurisdiction."

"That's an 'if' situation, though," Kort argued in return. "So far that hasn't been the case. She's been dogging him without any legal reason."

"You weren't aware of that, though," Benoit added, "were you, Tony?"

Tony looked uncomfortable.

"You would have had questions, perhaps," Benoit continued, "about her reasons and her methods, no?"

"I didn't see any reason to question her," Tony replied.

"Because she kept essential information from you," countered Kort. Tony shrugged noncommittally, sipping his cognac.

"Do you know how I found out about you?" Benoit asked Tony, who shook his head.

"My partners," he replied, nodding across at Kort.

"Partners?" Tony repeated, confused.

"You know who I am, right?" Kort asked. Tony looked at him, not saying anything. "It's okay, you can say it. I'm CIA." He laughed at the surprised look on Tony's face. "Yes, Rene knows."

"No one gets into my organization without my knowing everything about him, Tony," Benoit explained. "The CIA and I have an arrangement, a mutually beneficial one."

"Arrangement?" Tony's gaze switched between the two men in confusion. "What sort of... oh..." Realization hit him. "I get it. The CIA wants to put certain groups in power; those groups stage a coup with guns provided by the CIA but sold to them by you."

Benoit nodded. "Excellent, Tony. You're a very clever man."

"That's why the CIA told us to back off during the ARES sale," Tony added. "It all makes sense now.".

"Right," Kort replied.

"I understand that I almost got shot that night," Benoit said, "in the back, no less. Not very sporting."

Tony shrugged. "Not my call, sorry."

"So you see why we want your director to call off this personal vendetta," Trent said.

"Yeah, I can see that," Tony acknowledged, "but I don't understand what holding me hostage will do. I mean, seriously, I'm nothing special. Shouldn't your director be talking to her?"

"You know how those pissing matches go," Trent replied, "and your director is one stubborn lady."

"You're not really a hostage, Tony," Benoit added. "We'll send you back, safe and sound, if not a little worse for wear, for which I humbly apologize."

"Okay, now I'm really confused," Tony said, sitting back in his seat. "What am I here for?"

"Mostly to satisfy my daughter's need for revenge," Benoit replied apologetically. "And to show your director how dangerous her little vendetta can be to innocent people."

"You mean make her think you'll kill me?" Tony asked. "You already told me you're not a violent man."

"Oh, he may not kill you," Kort replied, "but I will, if it means protecting our arrangement."

"Boy," Tony said, grinning at Kort, "you guys _do_ play rough."

"This is the big league, son," Kort replied. "We don't play games."

"Now, see," Tony said, sadly, "people never give our little agency any credit. We're like the red-headed stepchild."

"This is serious, DiNozzo," Kort said angrily. "A lot of time and money have been invested in this arrangement, and we don't need a vindictive woman blowing it out of the water."

"I understand what you're saying," Tony replied. "I'm not sure I really agree with what you're doing, but that doesn't matter. Nothing I think or say will make a difference in what they decide to do."

"I believe you, Tony," Benoit said. "Perhaps Mr. Kort's superiors will work something out with your director. In any case, we will play out our little game tomorrow and see what happens."

"What game?"

"We're going to see if Director Shepard cares anything about your safety," replied Kort, "or if she's truly gone 'round the bend and will do anything to get to La Grenouille."

"And if she doesn't play ball with you?"

"Then I may have to do something to make her see the error of her ways," Benoit replied smoothly. "Perhaps your boss, Special Agent Gibbs? Yes? Perhaps he will be able to persuade her to drop her crusade against me."

"I don't know if you'll get any sympathy from Gibbs," Tony said doubtfully. "He doesn't like it when his people are kidnapped and threatened. It's a Marine thing."

"Gibbs isn't as blinded by hatred as the director is," Kort replied. "He may not like what we've done, but he'll see the logic in it when he finds out the truth."

"We'll see," Tony remained doubtful. "You may have made this personal for him. Then again, he's kind of pissed at me for keeping the whole undercover operation from him, so he might not care what you do to me."

"Oh, I doubt that, Tony," Benoit said reassuringly. "I've done my homework on Special Agent Gibbs as well. He's a hard taskmaster. You've been on his team for six years now, that's the longest anyone's ever lasted with him. I imagine he'll care about what happens to you."

"Enough business and speculation of what will happen," Benoit said briskly. "More cognac, Tony?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Warning**: Bad word in this chapter. I felt it was appropriate to show the decline of the character. Sorry if I offend anyone. Now we're getting crackficcy...I think.

* * *

"You better have something to tell me, McGee," Gibbs said, placing a cup of coffee on the younger agent's desk, "or you'll be wearing this coffee." 

"Thanks, Boss," McGee said. "I think we may have found something." He stood up and pulled up a picture on the plasma.

"We found the limo on the hospital's security camera tape and managed to pull a license plate. It's a rental, booked by a company that, it turns out, doesn't exist."

"And that helps us how, McGee?" Gibbs growled.

"Well, we managed to trace the credit card that was used to book the limo, which belonged to a company that also didn't exist, except that it did."

"McGee."

"The limo was rented by The Harrison Group," McGee continued, "which is a dummy corporation that's owned by the Foreman Initiative, which is a branch of the McKeever Foundation…"

"McGEE!"

"Which is bankrolled by the CIA," McGee finished hastily.

"The CIA?" Gibbs repeated incredulously. "How'd you find that out?"

"Well, since I was poking around their system anyway…"

"That's good work, McGee," Gibbs grinned at the younger agent. "Real good work."

"But what good will it do us, Boss?" McGee asked anxiously, "We can't just go up to them and accuse them of kidnapping Tony, can we?"

"No," Gibbs replied, "But we can use this information to get what we need about where The Frog might be holding him."

"And then what?"

"Then we go get him."

oOoOoOo

_Sunday night_

The rest of the evening passed without incident. Tony was taken back to his room and once again cuffed to the bed. His host apologized for the need for restraints, but his hospitality could only stretch so far; he couldn't risk the agent escaping, causing them to lose their leverage against the director.

The cognac had helped with the pain and Tony was relaxed enough to try to get some sleep. He was dreaming about vampires when he felt something warm against his body.

"What the…" he muttered, trying to see what was there.

"Shhhh," whispered Jeanne, her lips brushing against his ear. "It's just me, Tony."

"Jeanne," Tony whispered back, surprised. "What are you doing here? Trying to kill me in my sleep?"

She nipped his earlobe playfully, "No, silly," she said softly. "I'm here to apologize for having you hurt." She nuzzled his neck, "I want to make it up to you, Tony."

"I don't think this is a good idea, Jeanne," Tony replied nervously. "Your father probably isn't far away…"

"Then we'll just have to be very quiet," she whispered, kissing his lips softly and unbuttoning his shirt.

"I'm not the one that likes to make whooping noises," Tony replied, turning his face away. "Really, this isn't a good idea."

"I know you want me, Tony," Jeanne said, straddling his body, her skin glowing in the moonlight. "You couldn't have made love to me if you didn't want me."

"You're a beautiful woman, Jeanne," Tony agreed, "and I'm a normal, healthy man. It wasn't difficult to make love to you. But things are different now."

"I'm not beautiful anymore?" She reached down and began stroking his stomach softly, her hand gliding further down his body.

"You're still beautiful," Tony said, "but I don't feel an attraction to you anymore. Getting the shit beat out me tends to do that."

Jeanne's eyes narrowed. She knew he was telling the truth; he wasn't responding to her touch at all, where before, if she just brushed against him she could feel his reaction.

"I'm not good enough for you anymore?" she hissed, grabbing his crotch and squeezing painfully. "Is that it? You don't have to pretend to be the sensitive professor anymore so you can't bring yourself to fuck me one more time?"

"Jeanne," Tony croaked painfully. "I can't help these feelings, and to be honest, you're not helping."

Jeanne scrambled off the bed. "You may think you're safe, Tony," she hissed at him, "but my father will choose me over you if he's forced to. And I will never forgive you for what you did to me. You could have made up for some of it tonight, but you blew that chance."

"I do tend to make questionable choices," Tony agreed.

Jeanne slapped him. "Keep taunting me, Tony," she said. "You'll regret everything you've said while you were here."

"I'm not taunting you, Jeanne," Tony sighed, "I'm tired, I hurt all over and frankly, your Jekyll Hyde impersonation is making me nervous."

Jeanne opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. She pulled her robe on and stalked out of the room.

"That was smart, DiNozzo," Tony muttered to himself. "You could have had one last romp before the crazy lady killed you."

Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

"How did you get this information?" Jen asked Gibbs, looking at an aerial photo of a small estate in the heart of the Shenandoah Valley.

"That's need to know, Director," he replied cryptically. McGee ducked his head to hide his smile.

"It is, huh?" she looked at Gibbs suspiciously. "Are you sure La Grenouille is there?"

"Yup."

"And we're standing here because?"

"Just letting you know where we're headed, Director," Gibbs replied easily, grinning at her.

"Then let's go," she said angrily, pulling her gun out of her drawer.

"Well, there's one thing," Gibbs said, putting his hand on her arm. "You can't go armed."

"What?" Jen turned to face Gibbs. "On whose orders?" she asked furiously.

"Mine," he said firmly.

"You can't order me," she replied.

"I can in this case," he replied calmly. "You've already endangered my senior field agent. I have the authority to run this operation as I see fit, and I say that if you want to come along, you have to be unarmed."

"Who gave you that authority?"

"I did," Tobias Fornell stood in the doorway. "This is a Homeland Security operation, but I'm letting Gibbs run it because he asked nicely." He stepped forward, holding out a piece of paper. "These are orders from the Attorney General, making this a matter of concern for Homeland Security and giving us complete jurisdiction. But because I'm such a nice guy, I'm letting your agency in on the deal."

"You're a peach, Fornell," Gibbs said, grinning at the other man.

"I know," Fornell agreed, "I've got stop being such a doormat."

"This is outrageous," Jen sputtered. "I will not allow that man to get away with what he's done."

"That man," Fornell interrupted, "is none of your concern, Director Shepard. This is our case now, and if you want to play ball, you'll play by my rules."

Jen looked over at Gibbs who just shrugged. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and put her gun back in the drawer.

"Very smart, Jen," Gibbs said approvingly. "Now let's go, DiNozzo's probably annoyed The Frog enough to get himself killed just to shut him up."

oOoOoOo

"I understand," Kort said, his cellphone pressed tightly against his ear, his other hand shading his eyes from the sunlight.

"Well," he said to Tony, snapping his phone shut. "It seems your boss is more resourceful than we realized."

"What is it?" Benoit asked.

"Homeland Security has gotten involved in this somehow," Kort replied. "They've taken over this case and they're on their way here. Special Agent Gibbs is leading the team."

"Ahhh, the cavalry is on its way," Benoit said. "Wonderful! I would like to meet your Agent Gibbs."

"I don't think you'll like him," Tony said. "He's more of a bourbon-straight-from-the-bottle kind of guy. And like I said, he's not going to be too happy about this. Although, knowing him, he'll probably smack me on the head and offer you a beer."

Benoit laughed. "Now I really want to meet him," he said delightedly. "Let's prepare for their arrival. Adele," he called out, "we're expecting many guests. Please prepare enough refreshments for at least twenty people."

"Is he serious?" Tony whispered to Kort.

"Oh, he's serious," Kort confirmed. "We're really on the same team, DiNozzo. Your director refuses to recognize that, even after she was told that this is a CIA operation."


	12. Chapter 12

Gibbs was surprised to find the gate to the estate open and unguarded. Leading the convoy of government vehicles up the long drive, he spotted a group of people on the front stairs, waiting to greet them.

Pulling up to the house, the agents got out of their cars, hands on their weapons.

"Welcome, Director Shepard," Benoit said loudly. "Welcome to my home. Please, come in, make yourselves comfortable. There are cold drinks and food for everyone."

Gibbs and the others walked up the stairs cautiously, alert for any signs of a trap. Gibbs looked at his agent's battered face. "Hey, Boss," Tony said, embarrassed. "Good to see you."

"You look like hell, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied.

"Scorned woman," Tony whispered.

"Ahhh," Gibbs nodded knowingly. "What the hell is going on? I thought you were a prisoner."

"I am, or was, kind of," Tony replied. "It seems that La Grenouille isn't really a bad guy. Well, he is a bad guy, but he's a bad guy working with our guys, who are kind of shady guys if you think about it, but we're all sort of working on the same team so… ow. It's complicated, Boss."

"Yeah, I can see that," Gibbs replied.

Twenty minutes later they were all sitting on the patio, drinking iced tea and chatting as if they were old friends. Jen was fuming, her eyes shooting daggers at Rene Benoit, who was telling Gibbs about the boat he helped his father build when he was a boy. Fornell and Tony watched them, surprised and amused at the instant camaraderie the two men shared.

"This isn't right," a shrill voice came out of nowhere. Heads turned toward the sound.

Jeanne was standing by the pool, aiming a gun at Tony. Instantly fifteen service revolvers were drawn and pointed at the distraught woman.

"Wait," Tony yelled, holding up his hands. "Jeanne, it's okay. I'm sorry I lied to you," he said softly, looking her straight in the eyes, holding her gaze. "I wasn't lying when I said I cared about you," he said, approaching her slowly. "I was angry last night, I didn't mean what I said."

Jeanne's hand was shaking, the gun wavering dangerously, tears streamed down her cheeks. "You used me," she said brokenly. "You lied to me and told me you loved me. You made love to me, and you didn't care about me at all."

"That's not true, Jeanne," Tony disagreed, "I did care about you. I _do_ care about you. Your father was right about my feeling conflicted. If I didn't care about you, I would have gotten you into bed the first date, maybe the second. I didn't want to treat you like that. You deserved better. You still do." He reached out. "Give me the gun, Jeanne. This isn't going to solve anything."

"Listen to him, cherie," Benoit said imploringly. "Don't do this, please."

Jeanne looked at her father, then looked back at Tony, her lip quivering. "I loved you, Tony," she whispered. "I really did." Tony took the gun out of her hands gently and pulled her to him.

"I know," he whispered, holding her closely as she sobbed in his arms. "I'm sorry."

Rene Benoit was beside them. "You see what can happen to innocent people if you don't separate your family from your work?" he said sadly. Pulling his daughter into his arms, he led her back into the house.

"Yes," Tony said softly, watching them leave. "I see."

"You okay, Tony?" Gibbs stood behind him.

"Yeah, Boss," Tony said distractedly. "I'm okay."

"Let's go home," Gibbs said. He looked at Tony. "You've got some explaining to do, DiNozzo."

"I'm sorry, Boss," Tony said, looking contrite. "I really am. I should have told you everything."

"Yeah," Gibbs agreed, "you should have. But I understand why you didn't."

"You ever gonna forgive me?" Tony asked anxiously.

"We'll see. McGee, get the car."

Tony stood there for a moment, staring at the house. He felt, rather than saw, someone walk up to him.

"You look like you could use some nursing," Ziva said quietly, looking up at him thoughtfully.

"You offering?"

"All Mossad agents receive first aid training," she replied, smiling.

"Really?" Tony smiled back, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"DiNozzo! David! You coming with us or are you two walking back to headquarters?"

"On our way, Boss!"

_FIN_

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews, they are truly appreciated. Nightwing Gurl, I didn't reply to your last review because I didn't want to spoil this chapter for you. I hope it makes you feel better. **

**I'll continue to plug away at my other story, it'll be long - if it ever gets finished. **


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